


Twisted

by pocketharold



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Abuse, Boxing, Break Up, Bromance, Bruises, Dark Harry, Domestic Violence, Fighting, Louis-centric, M/M, Runaway, Swearing, Violence, boxboy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-09-08
Updated: 2014-04-23
Packaged: 2017-12-26 00:01:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/959179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pocketharold/pseuds/pocketharold
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Prologue.<br/>(Also on my wattpad - wonderlouu)<br/>The prolouge kind of sucks but it will get better, and the chapters will be longer.</p>
    </blockquote>





	1. Prolouge

**Author's Note:**

> Prologue.  
> (Also on my wattpad - wonderlouu)  
> The prolouge kind of sucks but it will get better, and the chapters will be longer.

The crystal vase shattered on the wall, splintering into a billion reflective shards exploding away from the hard wood like a deadly firework display.  
Louis winced, leaping away from where the vase impacted - right beside his head. A small shard of glass happened to make contact with his left cheek, pulling the soft tanned skin apart into a thin crimson gash.  
He gasped - he shouldn't have - but he did. The fresh cut stung harshly as blood trickled outwards, a bright red reminder of his boyfriend's actions.  
Speaking of his boyfriend, the curly headed boy stood across the room, chest heaving and eyes ablaze. His hair fell into his blazing green eyes and he left it there, too angry to be bothered.

"How dare you!?" Harry roared, his deep voice straining. Thick veins prominently stood out on his neck, pulsing. 

Louis gulped, he was in for it now. He shouldn't have said anything.  
Harry did not seem at all threatening if you were to see him passing on the street. His emerald eyes had an odd twinkle that gave the stars above a run for their money, and his hair - oh, his hair. His hair was a beautiful disaster of chocolate curls and waves that fell haphazardly across his lovely pale face. He hated when it did that, fall into his face. He had many an argument with Louis while drunk, clutching scissors dangerously close to his flawless locks, cursing them for being so infuriating. Although, he did get infuriated rather easily.

"H-harry, dear," Louis winced, "I just asked if I could go visit my family for Christmas."

"And leave me! Louis I can't believe you would ask me that knowing my family haven't talked to me in 2 years! Selfish..." Harry muttered, kicking the brown coffee table harshly. 

"I'm not selfish Harry! I understand that you miss your family but you can't behave like this!"; Louis pleaded frustratedly, eyes burning into Harry, the boy he loved.

"You treat me like a child, am I not given the right to play the part?" Harry snarled, pulling at his gorgeous hair.

"No! Why would you think that?" Louis replied, calmly, used to Harry's mood swings.

"You are always lecturing me on behaving. I'm not a child Louis. Do you need proof or something?" Harry shouted, reaching for his belt buckle drunkenly. Louis heart skipped and he put his hand over his eyes exhaustively. 

"No! I don't need proof Harry. Just...forget I ever asked." He sighed, walking out of the kitchen towards the stairs. Loud footsteps followed him as he shuffled towards the stairs tiredly. He really was tired of everything. Just as his left foot hit the first step a hand grabbed his shoulder. 

"Please don't be mad at me Louis. I just don't like being alone." Harry begged, emerald eyes glossy. His mood swings were officially out of control.  
Louis sighed.

"You can't do this every time we try to talk. You threw a bloody vase at my head! Look!" He placed a single slim finger on his cheek, avoiding the blood seeping from his wound. Harry's mouth fell slack and his glossy eyes widened as they fell upon the cut.

"Oh my. I-I'm sorry Lou. I mean it. It won't happen again, I swear." Harry gushed, pulling a plaster out of his pocket and putting it on the cut. It wasn't quite enough to stop the blood but Louis was too angry to speak.

It was lies. All of it. Louis knew it would happen again. It always did. Harry's apologies no longer meant anything to Louis. He had too many bruises, painting sick backstories upon his thinning body.  
But it was best left alone.

"Fine..."

"Thank you Boobear," Louis grimaced at the loving name, "You won't regret this...I love you." His lying emerald eyes bore into Louis' as he placed their lips together, a game that Louis had long ago began to hate. Harry's kisses were fake, he knew it.

He knew where it was heading, where Harry always did when they kissed. To their bed, so Harry could feel they'd 'fully forgiven each other.' Basically, in the form of sex.  
Harry lifted Louis into bridal style and leapt up the stairs two at a time, hunger in his eyes.  
Louis just kind of let it happen. He was used to it.  
***********************  
Two sky blue eyes cracked open, breaking the darkness in the silent room. Only Harry's snores interrupted the heavy silence as the boy slowly sat up from the soft sheets. They fell in a linen pool around his bare waist.  
Louis gazed over at the clock by the bed nervously.

12:05 AM. 

He could easily escape right now. Harry wouldn't know unless he woke up.  
Then Louis would be toast. He shivered at the thought if the bruises he would face if he was caught leaving by Harry.  
The prospect of escaping was a thought that had long lingered in the back of his mind, only coming to the surface on nights like these, where Louis simply lay awake wondering what he was doing with his life. 

Tonight, though, he felt more excited. Like he could really do it. His veins were flowing with thick adrenaline, his heart beating a snare drum's tune. Harry wouldn't know until he was long gone.  
Silently, his dainty feet slipped from under the covers ; soon followed by the rest of his body. Careful not to wake Harry, he creeped out of the bedroom and into the eerily quiet house.  
Louis scurried across the dark upper floor into the last bedroom - his old bedroom. Originally, he and Harry had been flat mates and they both had separate rooms. But gradually they melded into one. Louis still kept his belongings in his old room, though.  
He flicked the light on and glanced around the room, searching. He spied the large suitcase under his bed and grinned - he could do this.  
He grabbed the case and danced to his wardrobe, suspenseful silence encasing the whole house.  
He pulled out all of his clothes and stuffed them into the case. He didn't have that many clothing items so it fit nicely. Then he wrapped all of his precious nick nacks and memories into a plastic bag and added it to the suitcase.

All essential items followed and only then did Louis realize he needed to shower. Sweat clung to him from his earlier activities with Harry, which he grimaced at. This would be the last time Harry forced him into bed, the last time Harry kissed him. Louis almost smiled.  
He quickly ran into the bathroom and instead of showering properly, just rinsed his whole body with scalding water, ridding his body of the putrid sex smell.  
He tip toed naked back into his room and slipped on a pair of Calvin Klein boxers. He pulled out a pair of chinos and a sweater - because it was cold - and brushed his feathery hair quickly. He couldn't go out looking like crap.  
Then, he stared at the now empty room, excluding his bed and the album sitting on the floor. With trembling hands he picked it up and opened the binder, greeted by bright font and smiley faces. 

'HARRY AND LOU'S PHOTO ALBUM'

He flipped to the first page and bit his lip. The photo was perfect - 16 and 18 year old Harry and Lou were sat by a pool in their board shorts adorned with matching smiles. Harry's curly head was resting on Lou's tanned stomach and they looked completely blissful.  
Louis sighed. They weren't those boys anymore.

The next photo was Harry pushing Lou on a swing at what seemed to be twilight, Louis' face scrunched up in laughter, head thrown back.  
A low sob broke the silence, erupting from Louis' lips. He quickly slammed his hand over his quivering lips and sat stock still, listening for any sound.  
After another minute of silence, he allowed himself to look at the next photo. It was Harry and Louis - both still teenagers - lying on the beach, Louis straddling Harry's stomach as their lips met harmoniously. It was beautiful. The most beautiful, nostalgic feeling rushed through Louis and he pulled the photo free of the album, tucking it into his pocket.

Then, Louis shut album and scavenged for a piece of paper, eventually finding one under his bare dresser.  
It was crumpled and aged but it would do. Louis pulled a pen from his pocket and began writing, small tears rolling down his cheeks.

'Harry,  
You're probably reading this right now, gazing around my empty room in shock, maybe anger. It's pretty obvious what has happened.  
I'm leaving you Harry. I'm leaving you for good reasons, which I have been thinking about for a long time now.  
I hate our relationship, you are always angry and you never took into consideration my emotions. You've been less affectionate in the past months, and when you threw that vase last night it hit me. The love was gone. No man who loved his partner would throw a vase, intended to hurt, at them. The bruises will fade Harry, but my memories won't.  
Please don't look for me Harry, even though I know you will because you're stubborn. I'll be far away by the time you read this. Even though i'm leaving you, I hate to say it but i'll never completely stop loving you. I love you, but I love the man you used to be more.  
Sincerely,  
Louis Tomlinson.'

Louis quickly folded the note and scribbled a hasty 'Harry' on it before placing it on top of the album.  
He grabbed the suitcase and flicked the light off, scurrying down the stairs quietly.  
Harry wasn't there to stop him from slipping out the front door. Harry was asleep, unknowing until morning.  
Only as Louis backed out of his driveway in his car did he realize he was actually doing what he never thought he would. Louis was escaping.  
He drove straight to the airport, quivering with excitement. Where should he go? Certainly not to his mum's home, Harry would look there first for sure.  
Fiji, France, Australia?

First he would have to call his mother. He whipped out his phone and called his mum, messing up the number twice because of his shaking fingers.  
"Hello?" A tired, grumpy voice came from the other caller.  
Oh right, he had forgotten it was 1AM. Oops.

"Mum? It's Lou..."

"Boobear, why are you-"

"I'm leaving, mum." Louis sighed.

"What do you mean, leaving?" His mother replied nervously.

"I am leaving Harry to take some time away from everything." 

"Oh...I don't think this is a good idea Lou, but it is your life to live I guess and I want to go back to bed." Jay crooned through the phone to her son. He knew she would have a lot more to say in a few hours time; she was just tired and trying to find an excuse to go back to bed.

"Thanks mum, i'll call you when I get to wherever i'm going."

"Bye boo. I love you more than anything, and I hope you're making the right decisions."

Louis sat in his parked car at the airport, gazing up at the night sky. He took a deep breath, grabbed his suitcase, and stepped out into the freezing night.

This was it.  
***********************  
The ticket shook in his hands as Louis waited.  
He wasn't sure why he chose America. Maybe because it was the land of hope for escapees in the old movies that he had watched. Maybe it was because he was an aspiring actor/singer.  
He wasn't sure. It just felt like the right place to go.  
Slowly, the plane connected to the tunnel and the other people around him started shuffling towards the entrance. 

"Flight 4734 to America is now boarding." 

Louis rushed towards the entrance and handed the woman at the desk his ticket, thanking her quickly.  
His seat on the plane was in the middle at a window, allowing him a lovely view of the country he was departing from.  
After half an hour of waiting the plane finally took off, and Louis gazed out the glass window, watching the city disappear below them.  
How would Harry react when he woke up? What would he do? When would he wake up? Would he call Louis?  
(Louis then turned off his phone)  
Would he call Jay? Would Jay tell him? What if Harry followed him? Would Harry be able to follow him?  
Louis' mind was bombarded by thoughts as he slipped into a restless sleep, the country containing his sleeping boyfriend slowly getting further and further away.


	2. Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry's reaction.   
> or  
> The implosion of the Earth as we know it.

Birds chirping lured Harry from slumber, taking his hand and tugging him into the real world. Grogginess immediately hit him and he groaned, rolling over. Harry moaned, exhausted, into his pillow, not bothered to open his eyes. His naked body was warm beneath his blankets and he was content with his sleeping position. There was no point in moving, so he nestled deeper into the perfect heat of his duvet. The warmth reminded him of Louis, toasty and soft. He smiled at the thought if his fingers digging pleasurably into Louis' tan hipbones, head thrown back in ecstasy.

"What's the time, babe?" He sighed after not being able to go back to sleep for a number of minutes. Silence replied to him, shaking his soundless head at the curly headed boy, unknowing that his boyfriend wasn't going to be there.

"Babe?"

He slowly cracked his eyes open, confused as to his boyfriend's whereabouts. The blankets beside him were pulled back and empty, odd for a Saturday morning. Louis usually slept in forever on Saturdays. Harry would normally wake him up with a gentle kiss on the nose and a whispered 'wake up.' Harry smiled, maybe Louis was making breakfast. He weighed the possibilities of being brought breakfast and decided to just wait and see, hoping that he would soon burst through the door cuppa in hand a smile on his flawless face.

His pink tongue ran over his lips at the thought and rolled back over onto his side in eager anticipation. Fake sleep could only keep him occupied for so long, however, and eventually he could not contain his curiosity. Harry threw the sheets, his protection from the cold, aside and rolled towards the edge of the bed. He flinched as his bare feet made contact with the freezing wooden floor but soon the tingles subsided and Harry was able to walk without having to do some kind of tribal dance to avoid his feet freezing off. He crept down the stairs silently, resisting the urge to slide down the balcony because he knew he would fall off and get hurt as he always did.

Last time Louis had to race him down to the hosptial because he had managed to dislocate his shoulder on impact with the bottom storeys floor. That was a fun predicament to explain to the doctor. Not.

Louis used to find Harry's lack of balance hilarious but lately he was never laughing - not to mention smiling - he would need to ask him about that. He didn't want more bumps in their relationship than there already were. He wanted Louis to be happy, but he never was and it frustrated him. He knew he had a hot temper but it really wasn't that bad...was it?

He gingerly pressed his ear to the kitchen door and he couldn't control the furrowing of his eyebrows as he heard nothing from inside. Harry smirked, Louis probably heard him coming downstairs and decided to hide. Maybe he was in better spirits than Harry thought. Harry caught himself thinking about how he would find Lou and kiss him good morning. He would control his extremely sensitive emotions and be cheerful for once. He wouldn't let himself get angry, he was sure of it. He sniffed the air, smelling for anything that remotely resembled the scent of breakfast. The air was bland, scentless except for the faint smell of Harry's cinnamon deoderant.

"I know you're in there Lou." Harry giggled, finally pushing the door open wide to reveal....an empty kitchen? Where was Louis?

"Loubear? Stop hiding, I need to tell you something important."

Harry was nervous now, Louis wouldn't just leave the house without talking to Harry. He would usually leave a note signed with three x's explaining where he had trotted off to. Harry raced back upstairs and checked his bed for any notes frantically, still hoping that Louis was hiding somewhere. There was no note by his bed signed with three x's. Suddenly the house felt quiet, silence thick and eerie. Harry's hair was messed into a stack due to the constant twisting of his fingers as he searched for Louis.

Then he remembered Louis' room, the one he never used. Maybe he had gone to freshen up and Harry had just not heard the water, or perhaps Harry's snoring drove him into a different room. That would explain things! Harry - in relief - poured himself a large glass of ice water and drank majority of the liquid quickly, having sweated almost a fountain of liquid due to nerves in the past half hour. A cheeky smile returned to Harry's plump lips as he skipped up the stairs, traipsing to his boyfriend's room in relief. He rapped his large knuckles across the door once, twice. Silence sighed pitifully, waiting in grim anticipation for Harry to open the door and greet him.

"Fine, Boo, i'm coming in so don't blame me if get an eyeful!" The deep raspy voice chimed, pushing the door open.

The glass of water smashed onto the floor, water spilling out amongst Harry's feet, mingling with the blood inflicted by the glass onto his skin. He didn't even flinch as he stared around the bare room. His green eyes widened and his mouth drew open into a gape. Not a single one of Louis' belongings remained in the room, not one. The cupboard was wide open and empty of all clothes, all of Louis' quirky knickknacks were gone. The bed was perfectly made, all of the sheets smooth as glass. It was all too tidy for Louis.

Harry knew immediately what had occured; he was bipolar, not stupid. Tears pricked the edges of his eyes as he edged towards the photo album on the floor, a single piece of paper reading 'Harry' atop it. With shaking hands Harry lifted the crisp white sheet, gently unfolding it. He recognized Louis' small, cursive handwriting straight away, noticing it was slightly shaky.

'Harry,

You're probably reading this right now, gazing around my empty room in shock, maybe anger. It's pretty obvious what has happened. I'm leaving you Harry. I'm leaving you for good reasons, which I have been thinking about for a long time now. I hate our relationship, you are always angry and you never seem to love me to the extent that I love...do I even love you anymore? You've been less affectionate in the past months, and when you threw that vase last night it occurred to me. The love was gone. No man who loved his partner would throw a vase, intended to hurt, at them. Please don't look for me Harry, even though I know you will. I'll be far away by the time you read this and I hate to say it but I am smiling as I write this. I am free now, leave me be.

Sincerely, Louis Tomlinson.'

Harry's light grassy eyes slowly clouded over, diltuing to a dark stormy emerald. His jaw clenched angrily and he knew his emotions were getting the best of him, but he honestly didn't care by this point. He was too far gone to turn back now. His anchor had unraveled, and left him to restrain himself. And he wasn't handling the sudden change well.

"He's fucking gone!" Harry roared at no one in particular, flinging one of Louis' bed pillows across the room at a great speed. Tears began to run thick and fast and Harry felt utterly degraded. How could Louis just...leave him? He was going to be a better boyfriend. He was going to get better. No. Not any more. Louis didn't deserve his recovery! Louis didn't deserve him! Louis was a horrible, stupid heartbreaker. An imbecile.

"How."

Harry swung a single first into the bedroom wall and it smashed through as if it were paper, adrenaline masking the pain Harry should have felt. Plaster crumbled around Harry's feet as he fumed.

"Dare."

Harry turned to bed and let out a savage growl as he ripped the wooden headboard off of it, pivoting and impaling another part of the wall.

"He."

With a final scream of anger he tipped over the dresser which crashed down onto Harry's foot. He squealed in pain and crumpled to the floor in anger and sadness. The anger slowly subsided, transforming into a neverending swell of guilt inside of him. The world was a blur of tears to Harry as he lay sobbing in a puddle of blood stained water and tears, wondering what he did to make Louis leave him? Well obviously Louis thought he didn't love him. Did he love him?

'You've been less affectionate in the past months, and when you threw that vase last night it occurred to me. The love was gone. No man who loved his partner would throw a vase, intended to hurt, at them.'

Louis words in the letter hit Harry like a tonne of bricks. No one who loved their boyfriend would ever throw a vase at them. Harry had actually done that. Thrown a vase at Louis. He was a vile human being. He sobbed even louder at this realization and realized how unloving he had become to his boyfriend - if he were actually allowed to call him his boyfriend anymore -, how disespectful he had been. He had actually thrown an object intended to inflict pain at the man he loved. He had watched those gorgeous crystal blue eyes widen in fear and still gone through with his actions. Worst of all, he had actually cut Louis' cheek with a piece of glass that ricocheted of the wall.

He had hurt Louis.

He was a bad person.

And he realized then that it was truly impossible that such a perfect boy could want such a horrid excuse of a person such as himself. He had taken his boobear for granted, funneled his pent up anger into the only one who would take it and hold back tears. And he would shower him with stupid apologies and excuses that were invalid. He had watched Louis cry, and not cared that he was the cause of it.

"What is wrong with me?!" Harry screamed, not caring if anyone heard him as his whole world concaved in on him as he lay in a fetal position amongst his own blood.

The birds chirping outside were no longer happy, Harry couldn't hear them as his heart and mind climbed a tall, tall building and plumetted to the ground, leaving Harry to lay on the bare bedroom floor surrounded by no one but Silence, who was crying in pity for the young boy who he was not sure how to help. Day faded to night and Harry remained lying on the floor, long ago drained of tears to cry.

"Harry?"

A voice attempted to penetrate the coccoon of self wallowing that Harry had built up during the time that he didn't move an inch.

"Harry!? What happened? Why are you bleeding!?" The voice yelped again, Harry merely blinking in response, his mind void of thoughts besides Louis. To him, Liam wasn't even there.

"Oh gosh, Oh gosh, Oh gosh, Oh gosh..." Liam murmured, not exactly sure what was happening as he hoisted Harry's limp body over his shoulder. Thank God he worked out a lot. Harry was like dead weight, and Liam almost freaked out until he felt the relieving steady beat of his heart and the staggering rise and fall of his chest.

Liam carried Harry back to his own room and set him on the bed, racing into the bathroom in search of plasters. Harry's toes were covered by fresh and crusty blood, swollen and bruised. The stench of sweat and blood had filled Louis' destroyed room as Liam dashed in and his gag reflex twitched harshly in his throat, bile rising slightly in the pit of his stomach.

"How vile." Liam coughed under his breath as he finally found a box of bandaids in a bathroom cupboard. He rushed back to Harry, who was staring blankly at the roof, only blinking every now and then.

"Harry? Please answer me..." The brunette boy begged as he cleaned and wrapped up Harry's toes, watching how he didn't even flinch.

"Harry....?," Then it struck Liam, "Where's Louis?"

Harry's head snapped up, eyes sore and red and he almost gave Liam a heart attack by how quick he was.

"L-Louis..." Harry sobbed dryly, coughing because of his low water intake. "Yes..?" Liam chided, stroking Harry's sticky curls.

"He's...gone."

"What?"

"He's fucking gone." Harry's voice cracking as he sobbed erratically.

Oh. Liam's eyes widened as he finally understood what Harry was saying. Louis had finally left. Finally, because Liam knew he would leave eventually. Liam loved Harry, in a completely best friend way, but he could never live with him. He knew how angry Harry got due to his bi-polar and wouldn't last a minute sharing a house with the curly haired boy.

"Oh." Liam choked, not really sure what else to say that wouldn't anger or upset the boy, "Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh." He swept Harry's dishevelled curls out of his slightly acne speckled forehead and pecked his cheek, a casual action that both the boys had become used to, both of them having known each other since a young age. It was a completely non flirtatious move which both of the boys were comfortable with. Harry sighed, eyes fluttering shut as his sobs submerged into soft whimpers.

He missed Louis. He loved Louis. Yet he hadn't shown it when he had the chance to. Where did I go wrong? I lost a friend, somewhere along in the bitterness... The familiar song recalled in the back of his mind and his heart panged at how relevant it was to the current situation. Then, with a chapped and tear choked voice he began to sing, voice weak and wobbly like an infant walking for the first time.

"Where did I go wrong? I lost a friend, Somewhere along in the bitterness. And I would have stayed up with you all night, Had I known how to save a life."

Liam's jaw fell slack and he watched with wide eyes as Harry sang through his sobbing, for the first time in front of anyone. He sang for no one. He sang once for Louis but that was when he was 16 and auditioned for the X Factor, only to be denied. His self esteem has dropped and he hadn't sung for anyone but himself since.

"Let him know that you know best, 'Cause after all you do know best. Try to slip past his defense, Without granting innocence. Lay down a list of what is wrong, The things you've told him all along. Pray to God, he hears you, And I pray to God, he hears you." His voice had gotten deeper, that was for sure. It was deep and sultry and even though he was sobbing erratically, Liam could tell he had an amazing voice. He was far better than when he was 16 and as he sang his song of regret, Liam couldn't help but feel bad. It was if the sheer beauty of Harry's grim tune seeped into him and influnenced his emotions as well.

"And where did I go wrong? I lost a friend. Somewhere along in the bitterness. And I would have stayed up with you all night, Had I known how to save a life." But as Harry sung in his sad little voice, he didn't care for the underestimated raw talent dripping from his rosy lips, he could only think of Louis.

Louis as he ran off to somewhere far away without him. Because he was a bad boyfriend. He wished Louis was here with him, letting him lay his head between his legs as he massaged his scalp. Liam just wasn't right. Sure, Liam was his best friend and he loved him in a totally nonattracted way, but he just wasn't Louis. His hands were rougher, less feminine than Louis'. He didn't have the slim fingers and gentle touches that came with Lou. His voice staggered to a halt and his breath grew ragged as he immersed himself in a fresh round of tears, soaking the fabric of Liam's shirt. Liam gazed down at the breaking boy and sighed, wrapping his arms tightly around him. He held him tight because in that moment, it seemed that Harry could simply fall apart.


End file.
